


New Life

by JadeElite



Series: Reasons to Live [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Pregnancy, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-04-30 21:31:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14505870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeElite/pseuds/JadeElite
Summary: A series starting just before the beginning of the end of the world. Daryl comes back from a many month long adventure in the mountains with his brother to discover his girlfriend is pregnant, but the dead are beginning to rise, will he be able to keep her alive?





	1. "Are ya sure?"

            When you pull up to your house there is a mixture of elation and dread brewing in your stomach. A beat-up blue pick-up and a motorcycle sit in your driveway, the boys had finally come home. You suppose home is a lose term, your place was where they were always stopped by when they were in the area. Some time they stayed for a month, others they disappeared for half a year. Still, you had an extra bed set aside for Merle, and Daryl was always welcome in yours. You grab your purse and a manila envelope from the passenger seat, and hit the latch that pops your trunk.

            The cold hits you like a wall when you step out, causing you to shiver and shrink into your massive hoodie. The front door is unlocked when you reach it, and you can hear the tv blaring the news. When you open the door the smell of fried rice and general tso’s chicken hits your nose. An aroma you would normally find pleasant, makes you gag while walking in.

            “Eeeeey she’s finally home.” Merle cheers sarcastically. Daryl leaps to his feet and hurries towards you, a dorky smile plastered across his face. But before he can envelope you in a hug you walk past his towards the kitchen.

            “There are groceries in the trunk, be a couple of dears and go get them for me.” Your voice is dry, you don’t even look at them.

            “Uh-oh, looks like somebody’s in troubleeee.” Merle teases, getting up and elbowing Daryl on the way out the door. “You go deal with yer girl, I got the groceries.”

            Daryl follows you into the kitchen, which is thankfully free of the chinese take-out stench. “Weird stuff happenin’ on the news…” Emotional stuff and dealing with your feelings was never Daryl’s strong suit. “ There’s some cannibal cult or something up north, been goin’ crazy eatin people’s faces, an where ever they go more pop up, nobody knows what’s goin’ on, cops can’ do shit to stop ‘em.” You set your purse and folder on the kitchen table, still not even looking at him. “Got you some dumplins, yer favorite…”

            Your stomach churns at the thought, and you groan, leaning against the counter and covering your face with you hands. “Four months Daryl… haven’t heard from you in four months. I know you two like to run around doin’ your own thing, but you could at least pick up the damn phone so I know you ain’t dead!”

            He recoils at your sharp tone, but recovers quickly. “We was up in the mountains, wasn’t any service.”

            Merle enters with an armload of paper bags, having apparently decided to do them all in one trip. “You love birds make up yet?” He knows you haven’t, he just loves to tease when you and Daryl aren’t getting along. He unceremoniously drops the bags on the counter, but without asking starts putting the groceries away, knowing where things go.

            “Babe you know I woulda called you if I could, I hated bein away from you that long but…” Daryl walks towards you.

            “I don’ wanna hear it Dixon.” You snap, not feeling forgiving, not in the mood for this bull crap. You don’t feel guilt when hurt crosses his face, you’re angry, and rightfully so. “I needed you… I don’ ask a lot of you… but I really fuckin’ needed you.”

            “ ‘m sorry.” He whispers, ashamed, having never seen you like this before.

            “Now Daryl don’ be goin’ bein’ sorry for something you couldn’t help, we was…” Merle pauses, examining something he pulled from the paper bag.

            “Let me make it up to you…” Daryl moves to put his hands on your waist. “I’ll take you upstairs and make this all right.” You grab him by the wrists to stop him.

            Before you can respond Merle lets out a laugh. “Ooooo baby bruther there ain’t no makin’ this right.” Your heart sinks as he tosses a large pill bottle to Daryl, who catches it with ease.

            When he reads the label, all the color drains from his face. It’s a solid minute before he looks at you again, his eyes scared, hand shaking. “Please tell me these ain’t yours. Yer pickin’ them up fer Mindy or someone… right?” His voice is pleading. Your lack of response answers the question. He sinks into a chair at the table, setting the bottle of pre-natal vitamins down and holding his head in his hands.

            “Merle I think you should go take a ride on yer motorcycle…” You start putting the rest of the groceries away.

            “Hell naw, I wanna see how this plays…” He swallows hard at the look you give him. Not normally being the type to do what he’s told, you know it’s difficult for Merle to back down. But he hates seeing you cry almost as much as Daryl does, so an excuse to get out before that happens was welcome. “Ima head out to the bar, call if ya need me.”

            You don’t think he could have gotten out of the house faster. The sound of his bike revving up starts almost as soon as the front door shuts. Daryl doesn’t say a word, he’s just sitting there, staring at the floor and processing. The room is silent save for the sound of paper bags crinkling and cabinets opening and closing. He has to be the one to talk first, you’re too angry to say anything constructive at the moment.

            After a long while, his nervous voice fills the room. “Are ya sure…?” God, you want to punch him for even asking.

            “Yeah, I’m sure.” You knew he wouldn’t take it well, but right now you don’t really care about how he feels about the situation. For months you were left alone and scared, and it built a bit of a shell around you.

            “Like… really sure…” Daryl looks up at you, is he actually looking at you like that? Like he’s going to cry. He doesn’t get to cry, you’re the one that’s pregnant and alone. “I mean maybe it’s…” Denial, you went through it too when you found out.

            You stretch to put something on the top shelf of a cabinet, grunting from the effort. “Yeah I’m pretty damn sure.” Leaning against the counter to recover, you take a moment to really look Daryl over. You are, and have always been, in love with everything about him. His little nervous habits, the steel blue of his eyes, the way he always came back to you. You start to soften, but shake your head and strengthen your resolve. It would hurt less to expect nothing of him, than to hope he might stand up and make sure you don’t have to face this alone.

            “This can’t be happening…” He’s staring at you, as if you’re an apparition, like this was all a dream. “You’re joking with me, right? Please tell me this is a…”

            “This is fucking real Daryl!” Your frustration reaches its breaking point. Tears stream down your face, and with a deft movement, you grab the hem of your hoodie and shirt, pulling them up and over your head, then tossing them aside. An action that came through years for practice for other purposes. “Look at me! This is happening. This is what I’ve been dealing with by myself for the past four months!” Daryl stared at your topless figure, stared at the swollen belly that protruded from your body, previously hidden by the excessive size of your jacket. You’d been pregnant since before the last time he left, ironically only finding out the day after he had gone off with Merle, you called him every day for two months while your stomach slowly swelled with life. Now, being in by the doctor’s estimate your twentieth week, you were surprised that the two brothers hadn’t been able to tell even with the hoodie that you were expanding like a balloon. Your breasts, now to tender to wear a bra without discomfort, unless absolutely necessary, were larger than when Daryl had last been blessed to lay eyes on them. They hung low and uncomfortable, the nipples darkened. Them, combined with the recent girth gain of your waistline, with the stretchmarks that riddled once beautiful skin, with the dizziness, the morning sickness, the lack of bladder control, the constipation and every shitty symptom that had been hounding you while your pregnancy progressed, (but most importantly the fact that you had been left to deal with all these miseries alone, nobody to comfort you, nobody to give you a reason to think it’s all worth it) all combined to turn you into one miserable and emotional beast.

            Daryl whispers your name, as if he’s about to say something, but he chokes, not being able to find words. Now the tears are pouring down your cheeks. You’re angry, you’re sad, and you’re scared. He’s left you to face this alone.

            “Just get out of here Daryl…” You whisper, covering your body in shame. One arm trying to cover the sensitive breasts, the other wrapped round the distended stomach. “ ‘m not gunna make you stay and be a dad or some shit. I can handle it on my own.” You can’t. “Don’ need you mopin’ around cause I stole you away from your life of brotherly adventures…” You know you can’t do this alone, but alone was better than having to watch him raise a child he doesn’t want.

            “No.” Daryl says with certainty, catching you by surprise. “ ’m not leavin’ you… ‘m not leavin’ my… my baby.” Your heart swells at the look that begins to overcome his face, pride begins to override the fear. He stands swiftly and crosses the room to you. “Not leaving you alone ever again babe.” His large hands move yours aside, and he cups your baby bump with both of them. “ ‘m sorry, ‘m so so sorry I left you alone to deal with this. ‘m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.” He has tears in his eyes too, but he’s smiling, and for the first time in a lot of months, you smile back.

            “I love you Daryl Dixon…” You place your hands over his. Your anger, your pain, it fades way.

            “I love you too, so much.” He whispers, pressing his lips against yours, kissing you in a way you didn’t even know he was capable of. You begin to kiss back, but tense as something inside you changes, shifts.

            You pull away quickly and look down at the bulge, eyes wide. “Daryl…”

            “What? What’s wrong? Did I…” He freezes when you gasp, feeling what you’re feeling. A pressure against his left hand, something moving against the wall of your uterus.

            After a moment it passes, retreating back into the depths of your body. “I… I never felt it moving before… that was the first time it…” And now you’re crying again, for the first time filled with joy over the baby. You didn’t believe in signs, but you knew this meant something.


	2. Make-up Sex

            Daryl kisses you hungrily, pressing you up against the counter. His hands run up and down your naked sides. Stripping your top off had jump started his libido, and with the tender moment wrapping up, the two of you were finding it hard to resist making up for everything in the best way possible. His head dips and he begins to explore the changes to your body.

            Kisses trail down your neck, across your collarbone, down between your breasts. He cups one breast with his strong hands, fondling it roughly as he is used to. This causes you to gasp and whine, they were sore all the time now, one of the more annoying things to happen to you.

He pulls back, looking up at you in concern, having never had you react that way. “Did I hurt ya?”

            “Gentle…” You mummer. “You have ta be gentle Daryl… I know ya wanna fuck me down to the core of the Earth, I wanna be too, but ‘m…” You sigh, embarressed, looking away from him. “Everythin’ is sore Daryl… everythin’ hurts. ‘m sorry I know it’s…”

            You’re cut off by a moan, as his hand more carefully cups your breast again and his thumb rubs a circle around your nipple, causing it to harden. The achiness suddenly becomes a tingling pleasure.

            “Like this?” Daryl whispers, voice heavily ladden with lust.

            “Mhm.” Is all you can manage while his lips go to your other nipple, gently teasing it into a hardened state with his tongue. He works on you like this for a few minutes, getting your blood pumping, bringing you to a hazy state of desire and need. Between your legs grows warm with a familiar feeling, and the noises you start to make bring a smirk to Daryl’s lips when he switches breasts. For once the sensitivity of your breasts has come to your aid, his stimulation was bringing you far higher than you would have expected, than you suspect it would have in the past.

            At last he detaches completely, standing straighter and looking you dead in the eye. “Babe I dunno how ‘m gunna stop myself from taking you if you keep makin’ noises like that.” His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you close. “I want you so bad.”

            “You can have me.” You’re already panting, blood boiling and mind clouded. “Take me.”

            “Don’ wanna hurt the baby…” Daryl’s voice is quiet. You can’t help a smile at his awkwardness, the way his eyes go down to your belly, looking scared that he might break it or something.

            “You won’t.” It’s said with a giggle, kissing Daryl’s neck, inhaling the smell of pine and sweat that clings to him. “You won’t. I promise. I know it ain’t yer nature, but you just have ta be gentle.” Your teeth come down to nip the skin, being sure to leave a nice mark. He responds with a groan, hips moving to grind his crotch against yours. You move to the other side of his neck, marking him the same way, and you can feel his body go rigid as he resists the urge to slam you into the counter and fuck you.

            “But what if I do.” Daryl groans as your hands move down to palm the area between his legs, coaxing the blood to flow. “If anythin’ happened… I’d… I’d…”

            “Nuthin is gunna happen. Trust me, ‘m a doctor.” You tease, giving him a playful smirk, while rubbing his growing erection through his jeans.

            “God the things you do to me woman.” He growls, suddenly lifting you up and spinning around, causing you to squeal. You wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you off to the living room. As romantic as it is though, the smell of the Chinese food still fills the air, causing you to gag. Your stomach turns a bit, but you focus on keeping it under control. Daryl eyes you with concern as he lowers you down onto your couch. When you cover your face with one hand, and use the other to point at the cartons, it takes a moment for him to piece it together. “What…? The Chinese? It makin’ you sick? But you love…” He finally gets the point when curl over, gagging hard.

            It had been one of your most miserable moments to find out that many of the foods you enjoyed dearly, now make you sick to be near. Daryl springs into action, running back to the kitchen and grabbing a trash bag. Upon his return he starts dumping all the offending containers into it. You lay on your side, willing the nausea to pass, admiring your lover’s sporadic attempt to ensure your comfort. He takes the bag all the way to the curb, opens the windows, and grabs some of your candles. A bit of fresh air and a lavender aroma candle quickly calms your turning tummy.

            “Better?” He asks, kneeling beside you, slightly out of breath.

            “Much.” That tingling in your body had not faded away completely with the incident, and was now returning to its full force. “Now, where were we?” You lean forward and kiss him, hungrily, not wanting to let all that mess ruin the mood.

            “Mmm…” Daryl can’t help humming into your kiss. His hands go to your waist, spending a minute with his thumbs rubbing your bulge, sending warm fuzzies up your spine. Soon they move down to your waistband, curiously playing with the bit of stretchy fabric attached to them. One finger pulls the fabric away, before allowing it to snap back towards your skin, causing you to laugh and break from the kiss.

            “Maternity jeans, never seen ‘em before?” You move to undo your pants, allowing him to pull them down and off. 

            “No… they’re weird…” He can’t help examining them, before tossing them aside, then scooting along the floor till his face is even with your panties. Your favorite part is coming, and you let out a delighted shriek as his teeth suddenly have their hem. They’re torn away, the sound of fabric ripping makes your heart race.

            Daryl doesn’t even pause before lifting your leg up and diving for your heated pussy. Said leg is left to rest on his back, your other curled under his chest. His tongue is run across the entire length of your sensitive slit. For weeks you’d struggled with a nearly uncomfortable feeling of swelling down there, blood is flowing more freely in the area while your body prepares itself, but now that seemed to make you all the more sensitive and each touch of Daryl’s lips and tongue bring you more gratification. When you let out a moan from the pleasure running through your core, he pushes his face deeper, eager to taste every bit of you.

            “Daryl…” You whine his name again and again, feeling yourself be taken to heaven and back again by his actions. The bliss clouds your mind and all you can think about is him, is wanting him to make you his, wanting him to be yours.

            He pulls away slightly, licking his lips. “Ya taste different…” Heat rises in your cheeks, and you aren’t sure what to say, now didn’t seem like the time to give him a breakdown of the shifts in pH the area has been experiencing. His eyes flick towards yours, holding your gaze for a moment, before slowly travelling down to the pregnant swell between you. A small grin and a light in his eyes allows you to relax. “I like it.” He teases, before going back to pleasuring you again.

            Soon you can’t bear it anymore. The need and buzzing bliss in your skull is causing you to cry out in pleasure, shaking as waves of it pass through you. Then it comes, shaking your core. Your body unleashes all the built-up tension, an explosion of overstimulated nerves bringing you to the brink of pure ecstasy. Daryl pulls away, chin covered in your orgasm juices, a dirty smile plastered on his face, lust filling his eyes.

            He uses his sleeve to wipe his face of what his tongue cannot reach, before rising to get onto the couch. Strong hands move you so you lay on your back underneath him. But you’re still too caught up in the post orgasmic bliss to remember what to do next. So, he chuckles, unbuckling himself, pulling his incredibly hard cock from his jeans. You’re panting, watching him as he looks you over, clearly enjoying the state he puts you in.

            Daryl’s gaze lands on your stomach once again, your heavy breathing causing it to rise and fall, and those blue eyes are caught up in a moment of love and tenderness. “Yer sure I won’ hurt her…?”

            “Her?” You smile, loving the way he looks at her.

            “I jus… I think it’ll be a girl… beautiful as her mother….” He strokes his cock while waiting to be sure you’re ready for him.

            “Well, no you ain’t gunna hurt ‘her’ but ya are gunna hurt my feelin’s if ya don’ fuck me.” There was so much runnign through your system right now, the post orgasmic high, the lack of his presence for so many weeks, the changing of your hormones. In this moment you’re hornier than you’ve been in your entire life, and god damn if he didn’t take you now you might explode.

            Daryl bends down and kisses you passionately and hungrily, before pressing his throbbing member into you. The feeling of being stretched around him right now is the most amazing thing in the universe. His own groans of pleasure bring you delight, and everything kicks up to a new level.

            You close your eyes and tilt your head back, whimpering his name in pleasure as he slowly slides in and out. As it had been requested earlier, he is gentle with you, taking a slow and sensual pace, which is a new experience, and you adore every moment of it. One of his hands fondles your breasts, taking turns teasing each hardened nipple, making your entire body tingle.

            You’re climax comes faster this time, but is more powerful. There isn’t even time to warn him before your walls clamp down on him. Daryl cries out your name at the feeling, groaning as it forces him to reach his own. The explosion of hot cum is amazing, and causes you one last satisfied smirk.

            Daryl pulls out slowly, panting. “Fuck… that was… fuck.” He laughs, and you open your eyes to smile up at him. He’s got a dorky grin on his face. The two of you just sit there smiling at each other for a while, but the moment can’t last forever as you wish. The sound of a motorcycle engine sends Daryl scrambling to get some clothes on you.


	3. Strange News Reports

            By the time Merle opens the door, Daryl has retrieved your hoodie from the kitchen, and you slipped back into your maternity jeans. The two of you now sit on the couch, you between Daryl’s legs, his arms around you, hands on your pregnant belly, his chin nestled into the crook of your neck.

            Merle’s eyebrows go up, and he has a shit eating grin. “So, this mean ‘m getting’ to be called Uncle Merle now?” He drops a backpack by the ratty chair near the couch before sinking into it. “Daryl, you ready to be called a different kind of ‘daddy’?”

            Daryl is silent, slightly embarrassed, his only response is to bury his face deeper into your shoulder.

            “It does actually…” You reach for the tv remote, grunting with the effort of your stretch. “It also means,” victory, the remote is now in your hands. “that yer room is getting’ turned into a nursery.”

            “Aw, how is that fair! It was mine first.” Merle protests, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table.

            You flip the channel to the news, setting more comfortably into Daryl’s arm. “My house, my rules, don’ see you payin’ rent anyways.”

            “Come on, be reasonable now.” Merle’s gaze goes for the tv. “And I went to all the trouble of getting Daryl’s baby shit fer you two from Uncle Lou’s place.”

            “Grow up Merle, you’re always bitchin’ about this place anyways, ‘m sure you’ve got somewhere you’d rather be. Anyways, you can have the couch when you visit.” Daryl chuckles. Merle frowns but doesn’t say anything. Your stomach rumbles, it’s well past lunch time. “You hungry babe?” He rubs your belly.

\--“The autopsies of cult members show no known drug in their system. Could this be the uprising of a new, and more dangerous substance”—

            Your eyes are glued to the television, the reports of these strange cannibalistic cultists were growing more and more frequent. “Yeah, but I gotta get ready for work soon, can grab somethin’ from the diner before my shift.” You snuggle more into Daryl’s arms, they make you feel safe.

            “Yer kiddin’ right? I just got back, need to make up for lost time.” Daryl kisses your cheek, holding you close. “And since when have you worked on a Tuesday, thought you only did weekends.”

            “Been havin’ to pick up more shifts.” Something inside you moves, a strange sensation, weight shifting within your body, causing you to glance down. “Babies ain’t cheap Daryl. That bottle of prenatals? Well those on top of all the other vitamins ‘m having to take is takin’ about thirty bucks a month. An’ I know that don’t sound bad but when there’s also the doctor’s visits and the maternity clothes and the fact that I need ta eat more, and that I should be eatin’ ‘healthy’ and ‘healthy’ is expensive.” You sigh deeply. “Those groceries cleared out my bank account till my next paycheck…”

\--“Although unconfirmed, there have been reports that the victims of the cult members soon go on a similar rampage after contact. The CDC has been called out to investigate the possibility of a disease with psychogenic effects being the cause for the actions of these people.”--

            Daryl grows stiff while you go on about this. “Ain’t there anybody helpin’ you?”

            “Told ya… been dealin’ with this alone.” You didn’t really have anybody, except a few friends but they didn’t have the cash to get you through this. “Fuck healthy eatin’ though… I wan’ pizza… or mac n’ cheese… mmm with bacon.” You start to drool a bit at the thought of a deliciously cheesy pizza covered with bacon bits and pasta, baked so there’s a perfect crunch to the crust and the mac. Your tummy grumbles more loudly.

            You catch Daryl giving Merle some kind of look, the older brother in turn groans and gets up again. “See what I can do ‘bout getting’ us some dinner since it would appeeeeear my sweet n’ sour’ chickens been thrown out.” When you open your mouth to apologize he waves he cuts you off. “Don’ go bein’ sorry, saw the way you ran past it earlier, guessin’ you don’t have the stomach for it now.”

            “I mean ya don’ have to worry ‘bout feedin’ me, like I said I’ll grab somthin’…” When you start getting up, Daryl holds you down.

            “Fuck the diner, I want ya stayin here.” His voice is firm.

            “Daryl, I can’t afford ta miss a shift.” It’s been a struggle, you were already barely scraping by. You didn’t have family to support you, and the icing on the cake is, their money is sitting in some bank account, untouchable until you get your degree. Your parents will didn’t have an exception in it for accidents like this.

            “Yer not doin’ this alone now, remember?” There is guilt in Daryl’s voice. It’s strange, but the fact that he feels remorse for everything you’ve been going through, it’s comforting.

            “You don’ have a job, that doesn’t exactly pay bills.” You rub your tummy, trying to soothe the little flutterings inside. “I know you want to do right by me, but I have to bring in as much as I can.”

            “ ‘m gunna get a job.” Daryl says defiantly. “Go down to Earl’s tomorrow and see ‘bout workin’ for him as a mechanic.”

            Merle has that frown again, and you have a feeling you know what he’s thinking about. All you can do is hope he doesn’t go and do something selfish and stupid. Of course, this is Merle you’re thinking about and expecting Merle to not do something selfish and stupid is like expecting a fish to breathe on land.

\-- “Police are unable to confirm if there is pre-meditation in the cultist’s attacks, despite multiple areas of the country being affected with sudden appearances of them, there has not yet been a connection determined between the locations.” –

            You chew your bottom lip. “Ima trust you Daryl, I’ll go call Mindy and ask her to cover for me.” Managing to wriggle out of Daryl’s arms, you stand a bit too quickly, feeling lightheaded suddenly. It’s Merle who catches you when you start to fall, a surprising amount of concern on his face.

            “Shit you alright there?” He asks, helping you to righten yourself.

            Daryl is on his feet already, holding you by the waist. “What happened?”

\-- “We urge you all to stay vigilent and cautious. Now, Mark with the weather.”—

            “Just got a bit dizzy is all.”


	4. Photos

            You pop into the kitchen to track down your phone and call Mindy, it takes a second call for her to actually pick up the phone, which is rather normal for this time of day.

            “Eeeey, what’s up.” She mumbles sleepily.

            “Hey Min,” You look down at the manila envelope on the kitchen table, that you’d brought in and forgot about, smiling. “Could you pick up my shift tonight? Somethin’ came up.”

            “Yeah, yeah. Sure, sure.” She sounds a bit more awake. “Everything okay? Did something happen at the…”

            “Things are fine.” You cut her off, glancing towards the living room, where you can see Daryl and Merle talking quietly, Merle seeming to be growing increasingly frustrated. “It’s just that…” Daryl catches you looking at them, and smiles softly at you. “Uhm… Daryl’s back.”

            “Whoa seriously?!” You hold the phone away from your ear as her volume goes up a level. “Did you tell that deadbeat about the baby?”

            “He’s not a deadbeat Min, don’ ever call him that.” You lean against the table with a sigh, gently rubbing your belly. “Says he was out in the mountains, that he didn’ ignore me on purpose, wasn’ abandoning me.”

            “Right, right. Sounds like him, got more cotton than brain between those ears, those two neeeever think about the people who love them. But what about the baby?”

            Said growing bundle of ‘joy’ shifts in your uterus again. “He wants it, says he ain’t gunna leave me ever again.” You jump as the front door slams, looking up to see Daryl standing alone in the living room.

            “Shit, never would have seen that coming. You sure he means it?”

            “Yeah, I think he does.”

-Let’s take a trip down a POV switch lane; Daryl-

            Once she has left for the kitchen, Merle immediately pulls Daryl to the side and hisses. “What the fuck you doin’ man? You can’t raise a kid.”

            “Says who?” Daryl replies, defensively.

            “Fuck what did she say to you? When I left you was freakin’ out and bout to bounce on her. Now yer thinkin’ bout playin’ house?” Merle crosses his arms. “Listen I know you love ‘er, and she’s a great gal, but you sir, are a Dixon, and Dixon’s don’t make good dads.”

            That hurts Daryl a bit, and he winces, cause he knows it’s true, memories flash of his father’s abuse. “You think I’d turn out like that…?”

            Merle sighs, glancing towards the kitchen as his brother’s girlfriend talks on the phone, oblivious to their conversation. “Listen I’m not sayin’ you should full on abandon the kid, I’m jus’ sayin’ you shouldn’ be a…constant figure in its life. Keep comin’ ‘round a few times a year, let ‘em know you love ‘em, send them presents or whatever you have to do to ease your conscious, but trust me, if you stick around, if you let yourself get rooted here, yer gunna end up like dad, regretting yer life choices, fed up with that kind of bullshit, and takin’ it out on a kid who don’t deserve it.” It’s not as if Merle’s actions are completely out of selfish desire to keep his brother by his side, or led by misinformation, he had already decided this path for himself if he ever knocked a girl up, he was trying, in his own way, to keep the girl and the baby safe.

            And for a good minute, Daryl thinks he’s right, thinks about how much he loves her and how he’d hate to end up resenting her or that little thing inside her. He looks up at her, and she catches his eye as she’s gently rubbing that beautiful belly. Daryl can’t help a stupid bit of giddiness to spark to life in his gut, and he smiles at her, feeling more love for the woman than he ever had. “Yer wong Merle.” He says definitively, looking back to his brother with a stern look. “Yeah, we had one of the shittiest dads possible, we really drew a bad hand when it came to the family we were stuck with, but fuck… I love her… I want this… hell I want it more than to spend the rest of my life on the road with no home and nobody to go to bed with at night.”

            “You ain’t thinkin’ straight.” Merle groans, a little hurt by his brother’s comment, but he won’t show it. “You’re caught up in all the feelin’s and crap ‘bout findin’ out yer gunna be a dad, but yer tune’s gunna change when ya haven’t had a good night’s sleep in three years, and you realize you can’t go out with your drinkin’ buddies cause somebody needs to watch the kid while she’s off doin’…. fuck listen baby brother I’m just trying to help here, be the voice of reason.”

            “Well yer reasoning sucks, last I checked, I ain’t dad, so I don’t have ta go actin’ like him.” Daryl stands up a bit straighter, looking Merle in the eye. “I can’t keep running around the mountains with you forever Merle, I have ta make some kind of life fer myself, and that’s what I’m gunna do, with her, with my baby. And nuthin’ you can say is gunna stop me.”

            Finally, the older brother throws his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Fine, but when you go lookin’ fer a way out of yer boring kept man life, don’t come lookin’ fer me.” Merle stomps towards the door, muttering to himself about ungrateful little shits and how he should put them in their place. He slams the door shut behind him, causing Daryl to wince.

            He looks up to his girlfriend again, who is staring at him in confusion, offering her a small smile of assurance. She says a few more things into her phone, while he half collapses ontot he couch, drained from the argument. She hangs up her phone and picks some things off the table and approaching him again.

-back to our regularly scheduled POV programming-

            “Bet I can guess what that was all about.” You make your way towards Daryl. Merle had always been protective of him, if not a bit clingy at times, although he’d cuss you out if you accused him of such a thing.

            Daryl rubs his eyes, looking to be composing himself. “He’s just bein’ Merle, you know how he is.”

            You settle onto the couch beside him, pull your legs up and folding them beside you, leaning on Daryl’s shoulder and resting the manila envelope in your lap. “He’ll come ‘round. He won’t say it but he loves ya, wants ya to be happy.”

            “I know I know, just wish he could be less of a jackass about it.” His arm quickly snakes around your waist, and the other hand, after a moment of hesitation, unzips your hoodie. You can’t help a small giggle when you see the look in his eyes when he sees your bare baby bump, although you don’t blame him for sneaking glances at your tits as well. “So, what ya got there?” He taps the envelope before resting his hand on the firm skin of your belly.

            “Ultrasound photos…” You nuzzle into his shoulder, taking a second to enjoy the tender moment. You love when he’s loud and rowdy and excited, but moments like this, they make you feel safe, feel loved.

            “Shit… they recent?” Daryl sounds a little nervous, perhaps still processing the reality of it.

            “Hell yeah, from this morning. Stopped by and saw Dr. Martin when my rotation ended, he’s the one been doing my pre-natal care.” You laugh slightly. “It’s kinda weird havin ‘ one of my instructors gettin’ all up in my shit and stuff. But he’s the best in the business, that’s why I wanted to study under him and the people he works with.”

            “I remember that Martin prick, said something bout me…” Daryl shakes his head, he had on occasion picked you up from the hospital where you’re doing your residency, and had come to meet some of the people you work alongside. “Never mind… but this mornin’? So you did an overnight rota? Then… got the baby pictures…went grocery shoppin’…came here…and you were gunna go work a shift at the diner? Babe when the hell do you sleep?”

            You chuckle sadly. “Almost never, but per Doc’s orders I get a good break during my rota to nap.” Talking about sleep causes a yawn, and despite you trying to stifle it, Daryl still gives you a look of concern.

            “You need more sleep darlin’. I mean I know you’ve always pushed yourself to yer limit when it comes to that, but now is not the time.” Daryl rubs your belly, and you can tell he’s hoping to feel movement again.

            “I wish I could take a break Daryl, but I can’t afford to.” Your body is tired, and you try to pretend that your mind isn’t either, but it’s been difficult to focus on things as of late. “Money from the hospital is just barely payin’ my student loans and the house off, I have to work extra shifts at the diner to afford to eat and save up for the baby, and I can’t let my studies slide, I wanna be good at what I do, and there’s a lotta reading material that I don’t wanna be fallin’ behind on.” You play with the envelope, the thought of your bills and your stress and your future running through your mind. “I just wish… just wish this coulda waited until after I finished my residency, after I got my inheritance. Why did this have to happen now I was so fuckin’ close!”

            You look up at Daryl, who is silent, and has an expression of guilt. He holds you close. Your heart nearly cracks in half at the sadness in his eyes. He looks away from you, ashamed.

            “ ‘m sorry.” He whispers. “ ‘m sorry I did this to ya…”

            You want to comfort him but you have no idea how. “Daryl that’s… that’s not what I meant, this isn’t your fault don’t go thinkin’ that please.” You try to move to sit up, to hold him. “I didn’t mean to make this seem like it’s a burden or somethin’…” You kiss his cheek gently. “ ‘m just under a lot of pressure, but that’s not yer fault, I did this to myself.”

            “I shoulda been here.” He mumbles, resting his head in the crook of yer neck. “Shoulda been takin’ care of you. You had to take on so much by yerself, I don’t know how you’ve been doing it, I couldn’t have managed even half that.”

            You smile a bit. “Well no duh, you can’t carry a baby so you physically can’t do half of this.” He rolls his eyes, but grins. “We can’t change the past, can’t change that this is happening now instead of later, can’t change that you weren’t here. The only thing we can do is work to make things better.”

            Daryl responds my kissing you gently, lovingly. You practically melt into it, god you missed those lips. You thought about him everyday while he was gone, and sure a lot of the time you were angry, or sad, but you could never stop thinking about how much you love him. You weren’t always angry that you were left to deal with this alone, too often the pain was that he wasn’t there to make this a family. Now, he’s back, and he says he’s staying and that makes every bit of you excited, even if you’re still terrified at the prospect of being a mother.

            When you break from the long and tender kiss, you settle down into his arms again, and hold up the envelope. “So, you wanna see him?”

            “Him?” Daryl sounds a little disappointed, but excited nonetheless. “Thought we agreed it’s a girl.”

            You offer a sympathetic smile as you open it up, first pulling out a CD and setting it aside. “Sorry darlin’, Doc says it’s gunna be a boy, and I still haven’t figured out how to read these things well enough to disagree with him.”

            Daryl strokes your rounded stomach. “Boy or girl, doesn’t matter… but I think Martin’s an idiot and probably wrong.” He starts to laugh. “Man couldn’t tell ya what…” He goes quite as you pull the large image out from the folder. Your own heart flutters at the sight as well.

            Although it’s a lot of black and white grainy texture, there is the very distinct shape of a baby. It’s head, it’s body, you can even make out tiny arms and legs. One of Daryl’s hands abandons you bump, and takes the image from you. While he stares at it you remove the other photos, different sizes, a few for framing, a few that are wallet sized. Minny had asked for a copy, lord knows why. So you thought to ask for extra copies, figured if you ever found out where the boys ran off to you could send one or two to them, draw them out of hiding or confirm that they weren’t coming back.

            But now your boy is sitting here, holding you, staring at that picture. Suddenly, you hear a sniffle, and your head snaps up to look at him. There are tears in his eyes, and you can’t help but to be glad Merle isn’t here to give him shit. Fuck now your eyes are burning with tears too.

            “That’s my baby…” Daryl barely manages to say. “That’s our baby… yer gunna be a mother… god damn I’m… gunna be a father.” He smiles at you, a tear managing to escape and roll down his cheek. “Yer incredible… yer carrying him, he’s growin’ inside you and…god I love you.”

            You try to wipe away the joyful tears wetting your cheeks. “Daryl… thank you, thank you for giving me this. This baby… our… family. Yer the only person I’d ever want that with.”

            He laughs, and buries his face in your shoulder, setting the picture aside and allowing both hands to hold your pregnant belly once again. Perhaps it’s your sudden emotions that trigger it, but now the little one inside you is moving once again. Your son presses against his chamber, maybe it’s a tiny hand, maybe it’s his head while he turns over. Daryl laughs once more as he feels his child’s little movements. Your swell is filled with butterflies as he moves about.

            Nothing in the world could ruin this, not Merle, not anything. Nothing was going to tear your little family apart.

            The door is kicked open and Merle enters with several boxes of pizza, speak of the devil. You look up at him in surprise.

            “Got dinner.” He says, staring at you. You blush as you become aware of the fact that your hoodie is still unzipped and exposing your otherwise naked front. “What the fuck are ya doin Daryl?”

            You pull the chest of your hoodie together to try and cover your breasts, but are surprised to realize that they aren’t what Merle is staring at.

            “He’s movin’…” Daryl mumbles, practically entranced by the feeling.

            “Shit… really?” Merle sets the boxes down on the coffee table, it smells so good your mouth is already water. What shocks you is when he goes down on one knee in front of you, curiously looking at your pregnant belly, perhaps wondering what could be so fascinating to Daryl about a bump. “Can… I…?”

            “Yeah, of course you can!” You don’t hesitate, there’s something about the attention you love, and seeing Merle with such gentle eyes is a rarity.

            Cautiously he reaches out, unsure. With a bit of a chuckle, Daryl take shim by the wrist and lays his hand on the swell where his had been, where the movement can be felt. Merle goes stiff, but after a moment relaxes. He doesn’t smile, but you can see something in his eyes as he begins to caress the spot as Daryl had been.

            Perhaps you two would not so much have to worry about Merle tearing this family apart as you thought. It is his family too. And with Merle ready to protect his family at all cost, then truly nothing could hurt you or Daryl’s child that grows within you.


	5. Something is Happening

            It’s been five weeks since Daryl made his return, and things are going surprisingly smoothly. The boys had both gotten jobs down at Earl’s mechanic shop. With Merle chipping in, you’re actually able to quit your job at the diner and spend more time focusing on your studies and getting ready for the baby. The older brother did throw a bit of a fit regarding ‘his’ room getting made into a nursery, but on the promise that he could have the entire basement to himself (except the laundry area), he quieted down. You knew this would cause you even more headaches in the future, but it meant Daryl could still be with his brother, and you had somebody helping to pay the bills.

            The world though, that’s not going quite as well. The CDC confirms that the ‘cannibal cult’ reports are in fact the result of a disease, most likely a mutated strain of rabies. Every time it seems the government has it contained, it crops up somewhere else. Your hospital is deeply involved in the research going on to find a cure or vaccine, but you are not very well informed, there’s no need for a resident to know such highly classified information. Most of the heavy lifting is being done at the Atlanta CDC building, but being the most major hospital outside the city in these parts, it’s not uncommon for the victims to come through before being shipped off to the big docs.

            You don’t tell Daryl about what you’ve seen, it’s bad, and you wish you could forget. He and Merle see it on the news though, it’s all they talk about any more. Affected areas, number of dead. It’s all over the world and nobody knows how to stop it. Trying to not be scared is impossible at this point, but you keep moving forward.

            Today your duties include doing rounds in the coma ward checking vitals, an easy enough task for a resident to handle unsupervised. It’s a quiet hall, aside from the assorted beeps and whirs of machinery. Read some screens, write things down, repeat. You barely see any conscious people aside from the occasional army guy doing a patrol, they’d become common place since the outbreak started. The privacy is nice, but rather boring.

            You glance down at your swollen stomach with a smile when two light taps on the right side catch your attention. “You bored too little one?” For a while now you’ve worn the belly proudly, picking outfits that let it pop. Something about Daryl coming home, you two building a life and a future, made you excited and damn proud. It also helped that Daryl seems to love the new look.

            Room 231, the officer that had been gunned down in a police shoot-out two weeks ago. You were there when he was admitted, part of the surgical team that pulled the bullet out. Yes, becoming an OB-GYN is your ultimate goal, but knowing everything is always a good thing. When you enter, there is a visitor, one you’ve somewhat familiarized yourself with.

            “Mornin’ officer.” You smile at the patient’s partner. He was around almost every day to check on him, said they’ve been best friends since they were kids. You think he’s been here even more than his wife and kid. In fact, although you had heard of them visiting, you hadn’t the chance to meet her yet. On occasion you tease him about the idea of him and Rick having an affair behind her back before all this.

            “Mornin’ doc.” Shane Walsh rises from his seat to greet you. “How’s the kid doin’?”

            “Little restless today.” This statement is reinforced by several small taps to the right side again, before you feel the whole mass inside you shift, perhaps rolling over. You proceed to check officer Grime’s vitals, nothing has changed, unfortunately. “Everythin’ looks good.” You just want to be reassuring, but you know that there’s still no sign of the man coming out of his coma any time soon.

            “You don’t have to lie to me…” Shane says, your heart twinges at how sad he sounds.

            “Listen, he’s not getting’ worse, that’s a good thing.” A lot of this is sure to lie in your future, comforting family and friends, trying to bring reassurance.

            “Yeah but he ain’t getting’ better.” He sighs, looking his friend over. When he looks up at you again he pauses for a moment. “You feelin’ alright? You’re lookin’ a little pale over there.”

            Shrugging, you reply. “I’m at the tail end of an overnight officer Walsh. Been on my feet for the past nine hours and haven’t eaten since two am. I’m ready to crawl into bed and get some much-needed sleep, if the little one lets me.” Due to so many of the doctor’s efforts being redirected towards helping with outbreak control and research, you’d been taking on longer and longer shifts with less breaks just to cover for the lack of resources, even if it was just doing jobs like checking on coma patients, you felt like you’re beginning to spend more time here than at home. Which had been bothering Daryl quite a bit, but he wouldn’t say it, you saw it in his eyes. He’s worried about you, but doesn’t want to interfere with your work ethic.

            “Shit, maybe you should sit down for a bit, that can’t be good for the baby.” Shane gestures to the seat he had been occupying, getting the same worried look that Daryl does when you come home looking like you’re about to fall over. When you hesitate, fearing getting in trouble for slacking off, Shame offers a helpful grin. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

            With a small nod you sink into the chair, relieved to have the weight off your feet. “I appreciate it. ‘m tryin’ to watch my limits, but I’ve always been about pushing myself. I know now’s not the time fer that kind of thing but it’s just nature.” You look over at the patient lying in bed. “Just so you know, I do think he’s gunna come out of it. It takes time is all.”

            Shane folds his arms and looks over at his friend. “Well I trust you, so I’m inclined to believe that.” When he looks back he still seems concerned. “Listen, how ‘bout when you get off I take you home, it’s not been safe out there lately with that virus. I know it’s contained and all but I’d hate to hear about something happening to you. Hell, we can even stop by IHOP and get you breakfast, my treat.”

            The offer of free food is enticing, much more so than the idea of taking the bus home. Daryl’s pick up broke down, and while he’s waiting on the parts to fix it, he’s got your car. You told Shane about this the last time you saw him here. “I appreciate the offer, but…”

            “Buuuut you think Daryl might have an issue with it?” Shane cuts in.

            You laugh, shaking your head. “Daryl and his brother don’ get along well with cops, don’ trust you guys very much so he might not take to kindly to you taking his girl out.”

            “Yes, well Mr Daryl Dixon doesn’t really get a say in what you choose to do with your time now does he? You’re your own woman.” Shane is grinning, and looks happier than he ever has in the weeks you’ve seen him here. “Come on, you can bring something home to him.”

            You frown slightly, worrying that he might be expecting something out of this developing friendship that you are not willing to give. “Shane… you know I love him, right? He’s good to me. I know we’ve been getting’ close and all… and I won’t pretend I haven’t seen the way you look at my ass… but I wouldn’t feel right leading you on or…”

            Shane raises a hand to stop you from continuing. “It’s alright doc, yer right that I look at yer ass, and maybe I’m getting a bit of a soft spot for ya.” He glances down at your belly. “But I have no intention of trying to mess with your family. Still, I wanna make sure you and your kid are safe. So, breakfast at IHOPs? No strings attached I swear.”

            Before you can reply, an alarm goes off down the hall, you practically launch yourself to your feet and head towards the door. The officer follows you as hurry down the corridor to the room where the frantic beeping an alarm are coming from. It’s one of the more recent admissions, you don’t recognize the patient, don’t know why he’s here. You can hear others coming, nurses and doctors, but you’re the first to reach the room. The man looks to have been in a severe accident, the stump of one of his limbs is freshly bandaged. His vitals are showing no signs of life, hence the alarm, it must have happened suddenly but it might not be too late.

            Shane stands in the doorway and watches you work, only moving aside when the other staff need to get in. The first thing you do is check that he’s hooked up right, it could just be that his cardiac monitor got disconnected. Unfortunately, it’s not the case, still you press your fingers to his neck to check for a pulse, anything that might denotate a beating heart. His skin is nearly on fire, he must have a fever, had a fever, you don’t know what the right way to say it would be.

            “We need a ventilator and a shot of adrenaline, now!” You move to start chest compressions, glancing over as your supervisor enters the room, he nods to one of the nurses to follow your orders. He and a nurse work together to get the ventilator down the man’s throat, while another rush to the supplies cabinet to get the adrenaline.

            “No, we need a defib, stat!” One of your fellow residents snaps, you groan, but focus on keeping even chest compressions.

            “His heart’s already flatlined a defib isn’t going to do shit.” You say, looking up again at your supervisor for confirmation. The nurse handles the breathing bag.

            “Right, nothing to shock back into rhythm.” He says with a nod. When he says your name, you look up at him, but don’t stop. “Your compressions are too fast, remember your training.”

            “Of course, do you want to take over?” You try to remember what the timing of compressions is, but in the heat of the moment it’s slipping your mind.

            “You’ve got this under control.” He takes the syringe from the returning nurse, inserting it into the IV line and injecting the adrenaline.

            Nothing happens.

            After several more minutes of this, the man puts a hand on your shoulder, signaling you to stop. Sweat is running down your forehead, and your eyes are burning.

            “No crying, we can’t save all of them.” His voice is calm and collected, you wonder how many times he’s had to do this.

            You look back at Shane, who had been watching the entire time, but now he looks away. Could you have stopped this? He wasn’t that far down your rounds, could you have caught this before it happened? Did he die because you slacked off from your rounds?

            “Dr. Ste…” You look again to your supervisor, about to apologize, to confess

            “These things happen.” The man has a clipboard, is noting down the details, the time of death.

            With a heavy heart you begin to remove the ventilator, but are surprised that as a it slides out, a groan follows. You freeze, unsure of the meaning of this, then gasp as the patient’s eyes slowly slide open. “Dr. Stevens… what was he admitted for?”

            Nobody else seems to have noticed what you have, your heart is racing while you try to process what to do, and still looking at his clipboard the doctor simply replies. “He was attacked by an outbreak victim, sustained a bite to the right arm, which was immediately amputated. It’s in the reports, he went into shock after the amputation.” Amputation of affected limbs had proven effective in preventing victims from contracting the disease, if done soon enough.

            “I think they lied about the ‘immediately’ part sir.” You breathe, the others finally notice, taking a step back, you move to follow but it’s too late. The patient, the thing lurches upwards and towards you, intact arm grabbing you by the hair while his teeth snap at you. You scream, fighting to get away but can’t get out of its grips. The others look on in horror, unable to move to help you, till somebody grabs you by the arm and gets between you and the reanimated creature. Shane pulls his gun from his holster and for a moment you thank god, before your ears are ringing and the mattress, the monitors, the walls, are covered in blood and brains.

            As soon as you start to fall to your knees both Shane and one of the nurses catch you, of course now that they danger is passed they are willing to help. Your stomach is turning and your vision spinning. Did that really just happen? Did you just watch a dead man come back to life?

            Shane is saying your name, trying to get your attention. You look up at him but the world is still spinning while your baby kicks. So, you lurch for the wastebasket and empty your stomach into it.

            Something is happening, something really really really fucking bad.


	6. Deep Breaths

           The house doesn’t feel right when Daryl gets home from work that evening. It’s not just that it’s too quiet. It’s cold when he walks through the door, A/C kicked up to full blast, maybe to kill the mid-June heat, but she never turns it up this high for long. Her shoes are casually tossed to the side, nearly under the coffee table, purse sitting on the floor. She’s never so careless with her things.

He goes to the kitchen, it looks untouched, causing a pit to form in his stomach. A kind of routine had been picked up over the past few weeks, one that was strange and domestic to Daryl, but a habit they rarely broke. Her schedule was erratic, and normally it was up to Daryl or Merle to get dinner figured out for everybody, but when she ran an overnight, she always came home, cleaned up, napped, and made a homecooked dinner for the boys by the time they got back from work. She wasn’t the greatest cook but she certainly tries her best, so Daryl usually comes home on these days to the smell of something about to catch on fire. That she had abandoned the task she was working so hard to learn, was unlike her.

           Daryl hurries up the stairs, her, no their, bedroom door is ajar. When he half barrels through, in full panic by now, he finds her lying in bed. Still in her work clothes, lying atop the covers facing the open window. His shoulders relax only slightly when he sees her sides rising and falling with her breaths. Her eyes are wide open, pensively staring out the window while a breeze makes the curtains waver.

           He approaches her slowly, unsure what to say. Having never seen her like this before, there was no way to know what may be wrong. Knowing though that the changes in her body were causing wild fluctuations in her emotions, Daryl had no intention of doing anything that could trigger an explosive reaction.

           To sum up the man’s thoughts; ‘Shit shit fuck, god damn it I don’t know how to handle emotional shit, motherfucking Merle is better at this crap than I am, shit fuck I don’t know what’s wrong.’

           During the entire approach she doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, doesn’t even look at him. Sitting beside her on the bed near her head, Daryl carefully reaches a hand out, then realizes he doesn’t even know where to put it. Comfort was something he’d never received growing up, so he didn’t know how to give it. He’s not even sure comfort is what she needs. Looking more closely, he tries to understand why she is the way she is. Her body is tense, legs half curled up, shoulders rigid, hands not resting on her swollen belly but rather clenching the fabric covering it.

           “Is the baby okay?” Daryl doesn’t even want to think about ‘what if the answer is no’. Luckily, she is able to nod, and he breathes a sigh of relief. “Are you…?” She doesn’t give any kind of response this time. Finally, he decides his hand is meant to rest on her shoulder. “Babe… what’s goin’ on?”

           She sniffles, bites her lower lip. Daryl’s heart aches to see her trying to force back tears. Her mouth moves, garbled sounds escape as though she’s trying to speak, still not looking at him.

           ‘fuck what do I do, shit fuck, she’s crying, god damn it Merle where are you when I need you?’

           “The world is ending Daryl…” She finally manages to say. Daryl’s mind whirs trying to decipher what she means. “Look…”

           There’s a moment of hesitation, before Daryl finally allows himself to follow her gaze, to look through the open window. Across the street, in the house of neighbors he never bothered to get to know, a figure stands at the window of the room like this one. Dread, and horror shake every aspect of his body. But it is soon replaced by an urgent need to protect this woman and their unborn child. While still processing what he is looking at Daryl manages to lift her shoulders so that he can hold her close, to just make sure she knows he is there.

           In the window a woman with dead eyes, blood dripping down her chin, her neck, her blouse, paws at the window, as if unaware it’s there. A dead woman looks across the street with the desire to kill and consume him, her, the baby that has yet to know life.

           Daryl’s hands go to the belly swollen with life and in the back of him mind he resolves to make sure; that even if the world ends, his baby is going to live.


	7. Partial chapter - Impossible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Writer's block is bad, but this is what I have of the next chapter

            “This can’t be happening.” You mumble, while Daryl strokes your hair. The two of you are curled up on the couch watching the news. Suddenly all the strange reports seem so much more real after what you’ve seen, they hit closer to home. “I mean it’s just not possible…”

            “This is some fucked up shit.” Merle is leaning forward in the armchair, eyes glued to the television set as well.

            Daryl is silent. You listen to the beat of his heart while resting your head on his chest, it’s racing. His whole body is stiff. What are you supposed to do? To say? You just want to shut your eyes and make all of this go away.

            “What do we do…?” A bit of a sniffle can’t be helped, you’ve been crying off and on all day.  Both of your hands protectively hold your swollen belly, and your mind races thinking about how you can keep your baby safe. There is a small reassurance in the feeling of Daryl’s hand over yours, he’ll do anything to protect his little one, he told you that.

            Merle glances over at you and sighs slightly at the sight of you crying again. “Dunno, make the best out of a bad situation?” He’s surprisingly subdue, probably still processing the situation.


	8. Box

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short, still trying to find a writing balance, lost steam cause the blood week started and I just want to curl up and cry but I promise you this will get multiple updates this week alongside the other stuff I'm writing and posting.   
> Also, if you love this series feel free to check out any of my other writing, I work very hard on everything and really would loe feedback on it as I'm using the fanfiction as practice before I dive into my OG work.  
> (PS; if you have a couple dollars to spare and want to support me you can check out my ko-fi account here; https://ko-fi.com/jadeelite. Even a little bit helps out (if I can afford to ask to leave work an hour early that's an hour I can spend writing)

            After a while, Daryl sits you up against the headboard and stands. He closes the window and draws the curtain, causing the room to darken as your view of the horrors across the street are cut off. You’re still too numb to move, head to tangled up to speak.

            “I’ll be right back, promise.” His chapped lips brush against your forehead, you vaguely pick up on the smell of cigarettes and mechanic’s grease. Before pulling away, he gives your baby bump one more comforting rub.

            The whole world sort of goes fuzzy after he leaves the bedroom. You try to block out the thoughts of things you’ve seen. The future you see before your growing family is now nothing but fear and death. Things are spiraling out of control, and it’s only a matter of time before everybody else realizes.

            Your mind is pulled away from thoughts of this incoming apocalypse by a soft tapping to the right of your belly button. A smile actually manages to find it’s way onto your lips, and a spar of hope ignites a tiny flame in your heart. You rub your rounded belly lovingly, focusing on each tap and every flutter as your son moves about. The end of the world didn’t have to mean the end of life. ‘Life finds a way’ echoes in your head. You should watch that movie tonight to distract yourself.

            But what if it doesn’t? The thought manages to worm its way into your head. You might not be able to protect him. Your baby boy could be ripped from your arms and out of your life just as soon as he is brought into it. Tears build in your eyes, but as they fall the flame in your heart refuses to extinguish.

            Downstairs, Daryl is pacing the kitchen as the microwave hums. He’s chewing on his right thumbnail as his left plays with something in the pocket of his work coveralls. Scared, entirely and utterly terrified. Whatever is happening he doesn’t fully understand it, but he knows the world Is about to go to shit.

            “I’m not going to be able to protect them,” he mutters. “How did this happen? Why did this have to happen now?!” His mind flashes to his unborn son. Daryl wanted more than anything to just hold him in his arms, and know he would be happy. If he had been unprepared for the future before, now he may as well be facing off a dinosaur with a pointy stick, that’s how unprepared he is.

            The beep of the microwave breaks his train of thought. Daryl pulls the small box from his pocket, flipping it’s top open so he can remind himself of the purpose of this gift. Can he really do this? Is he ready to commit the rest of his life to this woman and their baby? Even if that life was spent in a hellscape ruled by the undead?

            Merle certainly thought his baby brother can do the first bit. When Daryl showed him the box, Merle was actually proud.

            “Still think this is a bad idea.” He had said, holding the box and looking at the ring with the eye of a man considering how much it could be pawned for. “Yer better off livin’ a free man… but you know what? I admire ya, but don’t go telling anybody I said that.” The men were on a smoke break at work. They’re damn good mechanics, good enough to keep their jobs and get paid well enough to support Daryl’s baby momma. Of course, she’s making money at the hospital, so between the three of them, they should be able to eek out a living that the baby Dixon deserves.

            “I don’ think I’ve ever heard those words come out your mouth bout anyone.” Daryl grinned, catching the box as Merle tossed it back.

            “Shut up bout it!” Merle took a long drag of his cig before speaking again. “Hell and God know I could never do something like this. Would have jumped ship at the first sound of the ‘p’ word.”

            “But you’re here.” Daryl leaned against a wall, looking over his cigarette in a contemplative manner.

            “This is different.” Merle shrugged. “I don’ have to be here, can leave whenever I want to. But if yer going to do this, it’s my job to make sure you don’t fuck it up, right?”

            “You sure it’s not cause you have the hots fer Mindy?” Daryl couldn’t help himself.

            Merle laughed at that. “Brother you say that like it’s a high school crush. You know I’ve banged her six ways to Sunday on multiple occasions, right?” He paused, catching sight of the way Daryl was looking his cig over. “You ain’t thinkin’ of quitting are ya?”

            “Might be, got a kid to think bout now. Be a good father figure and all, I mean these things are basically death sticks.” Daryl was being sarcastic but knew it was something to think about.

            “One step at a time baby brother,” Merle rolled his eyes. “Just cause you found out yer gonna be a dad don’ mean you have to start prepping for father of the year awards already.”


	9. Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that New Life chapters end up being a tad short, I like keeping them broken up and contained to one or two scenes.  
> Feel free to support me on my ko-fi account; https://ko-fi.com/jadeelite

            You can hear Daryl’s footsteps coming up the stairs, so you try to make it seem like you’re better. Sitting up straighter and wiping away your tears should do it. The wetness you dry from your cheeks is replaced too quickly though. He peeks his head in the doorway, looking a bit nervous, likely afraid you’re emotional still (you are), and he doesn't really know how to deal with that.

            “Brought ya some food. You haven’t eaten in a bit have you?” He enters with an old dining tray you vaguely remember pulling out of storage while clearing the basement for Merle.

            “No, not since…” You try to remember when you last ate, recalling something about Officer Walsh offering you IHOP. “Dunno when…”

            Daryl lays the tray across your lap, concern evident in his eyes. “I know… I know yer scared bout what’s going on but, you have ta take care of yourself, okay? Fer the baby.” He rests against the nightstand to watch and make sure you eat everything.

            You hand brushes your baby bump lightly before you pick up the fork. “I know… I’ll do better, I promise.” The microwave dinner is welcomed by your empty stomach. You don’t realize how hungry you’ve been until the entire thing’s been eaten in about three minutes. When you look up again Daryl has an amused grin, and his eyes have gone soft.

            “Want more? Freezer is packed.” He sounds relieved.

            You want to say yes but, “let’s wait an’ see if this one stays down.” You move the tray away and try to get up. “I need to change, shouldn’ have stayed in these clothes for so long.” You always kept a spare set of clothing at the hospital, which is what you’re wearing now.

            “Meant to ask, those ain’t the clothes you left in this morning.” Daryl helps you stand, still wary of your condition. “Those are yer spare right?”

            You’re quiet for a moment, the sound of a gunshot ringing in your ears. “I… saw a man die… an’ come back.” You didn’t realize until later that your clothes were covered in blood, one of the nurses had to guide you to the shower units you were so discombobulated. “He… it lunged at me, there was an officer, he shot it.” It plays in your head over and over again.

            Daryl’s grows tense, immediately he puts a hand on your swollen belly as if that will somehow protect his son from anything like that. “Darlin’… you…” He works on the words a little while, before saying firmly. “I don’ want you goin’ back to the hospital.”

            “Daryl it’s my job to help people. I’m supposed to be a doctor, they need me.” You can’t deny it though, you don’t want to set foot in that building again. “If I jus’ walk out cause the whole world is goin’ to shit then what kind of person does that make me?”

            He’s stiff, thoughts running a thousand miles an hour. “Please… I can’t lose ya. If somethin’ happened to ya, to the baby, I couldn’ live with myself..” Butterflies startup inside you, a slow and rhythmic tapping where Daryl’s hand has come to rest. He looks down, seeming uncertain how to respond. Is he crying?

            “What do I tell him when he’s old enough to ask what I did when the world ended?” All you want to do is help people, it’s not right to leave the sick and injured to fend for themselves, to deny them their chance to live. “Please… don’ make me tell him that I ran and hid when I could have been helpin’ people.”

            He’s quiet for a bit, eventually nods. “I won’t stop ya, but I’m beggin’ ya, be safe… don’ let those things take ya from me?” Before you can respond, he takes a deep breath, apparently preparing to say something else. His hand reluctantly abandons the tapping coming from within you, so that he can take something from the pocket of his coveralls. You’re already starting to choke up as he gets down on one knee, his cheeks a tad red (likely from how cliché and cheesy this is, so unlike the man but so perfectly sweet) and he is only able to half-whisper what he says next as he opens that tiny little box for you to see. “I’d like it if… nobody an’ nothin’ can take you from me. I know that if society is ‘bout to fall apart this means jackshit but… I still would like it if you’d marry me.”

            You can’t stop crying today it seems, at least you have a good reason this time. “Of course I will Daryl Dixon, as long as you don’t let anything take you from me.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the low quality on this one. sort of had my heart shattered and now words are kind of not making sense. Promise i won't just stop writing again though

            Daryl begins to help you out of your clothes as you admire the ring on your finger. It’s certainly nothing fancy, but somehow that makes it all the more beautiful. Rather than a diamond in gold, it’s your favorite colored gemstone, in a silver band. It’s unique and absolutely stunning. There’s something about this whole situation that seems impossible, unfathomable. The entire world is going to shit, and Daryl Dixon has asked you to be his wife. Despite all the terror that has been consuming your heart as of late, the apprehension about the future, there is a giddiness in your stomach.

            Your soon-to-be-husband runs his hands over your every stretch of skin he exposes as your clothing is removed. Lovingly dragging his fingers across the swell of your belly, eyes going soft as he takes in its roundness. His hands are calloused but warm, and he treats you like the most delicate thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. Part of you wishes that he’d be brought with you, take and hold you tight. You miss the days where he could slam you against a wall and fuck you till heaven’s light shone behind your eyes. Before long you are standing before him in only your underwear, as he looks away nervously, chewing his bottom lip, and there is something oh so sweet about how he looks now. Scared to do something to hurt you, scared that you might break beneath him.

            Reaching out you begin undoing the buttons of Daryl’s work coveralls. With the heat of the summer, he wears nothing but his boxers underneath, so as you push the fabric of him you’re able to run your hands over his broad shoulders. He quickly shrugs it off the rest of the way, allowing it to drop to the floor. Each inch of him is perfect, you end up just staring, enjoying the sight of what is yours. How on god’s green earth did you snag a man as glorious as this bastard? Your parents certainly wouldn’t have approved of him had they lived to meet.

            Daryl is distracted now, fixated on the way your belly protrudes. With one hand he traces a line from the back to the front, seeming to relish in how big you’ve been getting.

 

            You two had met at a bar not far from here. You were drinking off the stress of finals. Merle had dragged Daryl there because chicks were blowing off steam from finals and looking for a good time. As he was hunting for ass that was way out of his league, the older brother struck out, many many times, till he came across Mindy.

 

            You’re still admiring Daryl’s body, one hand trying to wipe away the mechanic’s grease at his neckline. He is looking at you in much the same way, eyes occasionally wandering from your belly to your swollen breasts, which are barely contained by your bra. Once you were ashamed of your changing body, it’s growth a reminder of your abandonment. Now you are not abandoned, and you take pride in your form, satisfaction in the way your beauty makes your man’s eyes darken with lust. While one of his hands continues to stroke the firm skin of your tummy, the other moves up to a breast. The thumb strokes the top edge of the bra’s cup and seems to enjoy how it looks as though you might burst free of the fabric at any moment. You’re still tender, it makes your breasts ache to wear a bra this tight but you didn’t think you’d outgrow the ones you bought, and when you did you don’t have the money to spend on more quite yet. Still, that tenderness makes Daryl’s gentle touches feel like a professional massage.

 

            Mindy was always the fun loving type of girl. You met her while working at the diner, and she made it her life mission to turn you into an outgoing, free-spirited gal who didn’t stay shut up in her room studying all night. Mindy was a bit older than you, make that a good decade older (or more). So she stuck out a bit in the crowd of college kids, enough so that when Merle got tired of striking out with girls half his age he had a fallback. So he went and swooned away your friend, leaving you alone on your first night out at a bar ever.

 

            Police sirens, they break the peaceful moment between you and Daryl. A low wailing in the distance at first. He goes rigid, listening, those sirens always mean trouble, no matter where you are. Whether they’re coming for you or somebody else, it just says that danger is close. As you predicted, those sirens grow louder and louder, until the noise is unbearable. It stops in front of your house, or rather at the home across the street. You close your eyes, try to think of anything that can block it out. Daryl moves quickly for the curtain, stands back to the wall and peeks to see what he can see.

 

            The truth is, Mindy… well if fate is a thing, Mindy changed yours. There’s no such thing as love at first sight. A soulmate is a crap idea invented by lovers looking for a way to make their relationship special. You’ve never believed any of that shit, even now you know that ‘true’ love is forged through work and trust and communication. So, when Daryl Dixon took the seat left empty by your friend’s departure, there were no fireworks, not even sparks. The heavens did not open up. The angels did not sing (although that’s debatable with Grace Potter’s ‘Hot Summer Night’ playing on the bar speakers.)

            You did take the time to look him over when he sat through, to appreciate the good looks he’d been blessed with. No wonder half the girls had been all over him from the moment he walked in. Those sweet blue eyes were a tempting lake that you could wade into and end up drowning before you realized there’s no bottom.

            “You look like you want to be here even less than I do.” You played with the umbrella in the drink Min had ordered for you, you hated cocktails, too sweet.

            The man looked up at you with surprise, apparently not expecting you to acknowledge him, or that it was not the comment he was waiting for. With all the attention you’d seen him receiving that night surely he had to be planning to get some from you. He had caught your eye when he walked in with his brother, the two stuck out like a sore thumb in a sea of college kids. It was rather amusing to see Merle fail to chat up your classmates, although it was partly due to his crass and lack of charm (or a different breed of charm as he likes to call it), they were far too interested in his younger brother. Even if Merle approached them on his own,, the girls only wanted to know if his brother was single.

            This sociological even had kept your interest for most of the night. More so than Mindy talking shit all night about your coworkers and her various ex-boyfriends all night.

            “Have to be here.” You hadn’t seen him drinking all night, but he indeed seemed like he needed one.

            “Nobody has to be at a bar.” You shrugged. “Well except for the bartenders I suppose.”

            He laughed a bit at that, and you decided he had a sweet smile. “Well that may be the case for most, but I have to make sure Merle don’t get into any fights, can’t afford the bail money.”

            “Oh, such a sad existence you must lead if the peak of your Friday nights is babysitting your older brother.” A waitress passes you, and you place your untouched drink on her tray. “Could I get some whiskey instead ma’am, and whatever he’ll be having.”

           

            Gunshots. They pull you out of history with the horsepower of a car too fancy for you to know the name of. That sound echos through every chamber of your mind. Is treatment for a gunshot wound rushing through your mind a reaction of second nature or of coping?

            Your legs give out under you, the bed catching your fall. The unborn child within you begins to move about, with harsher kicks and punches than what you’re accustom to. Pray it Is just a reaction to your stress, that he did not hear that awful noise. You bend over, curling around you distended middle, both hands pressed to the taut surface. Every fiber of you wants only to protect this innocent bundle from the cruelty of the coming world.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry about the wait, I promise I already have half of the next chapter done though. I"ll try to keep up on these I'm sorry

The sirens finally are silent. Daryl lets the curtain fall shut again, leaving the room dim. He turns back to you with a pale face. Desperately you search his features for some kind of reassurance that everything would be okay.

While choking back tears, you try to speak. “What… what do we…” Your hands are trembling while you rub the side of your tummy that is being assaulted by the baby’s terrified feeble kicks. “It's already all gone to shit… ain't it?”

Daryl sighs, crossing the space between you two, lowering himself onto the bed and putting an arm around your shoulder. You lean into him, lower lip quivering. Have you ever been this scared in your entire life? His other hand comes to the swell of your belly, resting underneath yours. Such a tiny thing inside you; as it is Daryl could probably hold it in that one hand. He doesn't seem as aware of the child's distress, not subject to being the vessel containing the thrashing fetus.

“He'll be all right… won't he?” You're embarrassed by how much your voice shakes. It is time to be strong, but you've never felt weaker. Your lover’s warm hand glides across the skin making slow circles, the only comfort he can think to give.

It's as though somebody has thrown acid in your face, tears burn as they come in flood. The sobs start in your chest, deep down, crawling their way up your esophagus digging in and leaving claw marks behind before launching themselves out of your mouth in great cry. Turning your head so you can press your face into Daryl's chest, the fear and hopelessness consume you.

He holds you tightly, face pressed into the crook of your neck. Although his entire body is rigid, the hand circling the mass of your stomach remains soft, gentle.

You don't have the slightest clue what to do. All your dreams of some happy family life with Daryl and a gaggle of Dixon kids running around a big lawn of a beautiful house-- lie in pieces at your feet. The white picket fence future you had been nursing at the back of your mind is now decrepit and blood-stained. You were supposed to become a world-renowned physician and find the cure for ovarian cancer or something that. Or live a modest life as a gynecologist living off that grand inheritance you tried so hard to get.

“Fuck my stupid fucking parents and their stupid f****** will.” There is no vitriol in your voice. You just want somebody to blame. “We could get away from all of this, find somewhere safe if we had the money.” Would you really do that? Run away, abandon your friends, your patients? “But no they had to make me be a doctor. I never wanted to be a fuckin’ doctor.” You're interrupted by another sob.

There's a soft “mhm” from Daryl. All you ever wanted was to see the world, fall in love, have a family. While two out of three ain't bad, you never wanted to be a doctor. Somehow you tricked yourself into enjoying. It was it a trick, right? You had no other choice.

“I’m their fuckin’ daughter! They should have known I'd need it to take care of myself.” They died and left you with a dirt-poor uncle, a scholarship, and a promise of money if you became the surgeon your father couldn't be. “Now we're all fucked. We can't do anything because they didn't want to take care of me…” You hiccup. Oh god now is not the time for you to be reminiscing about your parents. There are more important things to be freaking out about. Damn hormones this is not what you should be fucking thinking about. “They should never have gotten on that plane… I was sick they were supposed to be at home taking care of me… why did they get on that stupid fucking plane.”

There it is. The rotting and festering pain you keep buried inside your soul. Daryl moves, pulling you into his lap. Chapped lips are pressed to your forehead, while he continues to caress your baby bump. If anybody you know understood shitty parents, Daryl would be the one.

Now is really not the time for this, but taking a deep breath to calm yourself only results in an even louder broken cry. “Why did they get on the plane?” They'd still be here if they hadn't gone to that conference. They wouldn't have been on that plane when the engine went out.

“I don't know…” Daryl's voice is rough, cracking like yours. You realize that the reason your shoulder feels wet is that he's been crying into it; trying so hard not to let you know.

Despite his state, he has still managed to keep his hand steady and calm. You realize that his caresses have caused the flailing within you to cease. Your son is at peace once more. It wasn't for your benefit, was it? He wasn’t trying to reassure you and failing. He knew that he had no way to calm you other than to let you ride out your terror. So, his calm hand was for the benefit of his child, to do a father's duty and make them feel safe.

It must be quite the surprise when you let out an exhausted laugh. In fact, he pulls back to look you over an ‘oh shit she's lost her mind’ look evident alongside the puffy red eyes and tear-stained cheeks you must look twice as awful as he does though.

Your hand rests on his cheek, thumb stroking the stubble on his jaw. “But we will be better than them, right? My parents, yours.” A coolness overtakes the burning sensation, replacing pain with peace. “ We will take care of our kid. Just because they couldn't take care of us, don't mean we can't take care of our little one.” This time when you take a deep breath, it stays within you. “We will take care of each other.” The way those blue eyes light up makes your heart race, for a moment you see the twinkle of love and adoration that draw you to him every time. “We won't ever be alone… he won't ever be alone.”

The reason you see that twinkle for only a split second is that now he presses his lips against yours a gentle kiss, his eyes squeezed shut. Your reciprocation of the kiss is immediate, closing your eyes and pushing into him as though trying to occupy the same space and become one harmoniously loving unit. His hands are in your hair tangled up in its locks refusing to allow you to escape this thing you don't want to.

When he breaks for air, pulling away only by a few millimeters he whispers playful. “I still think it’s gonna be a girl.”


	12. Chapter 12

            When you met Daryl at the bar that fateful night, you hardly expected the evening to end the way it did, much less thought that one day he’d put a ring on your finger while you carried his baby. Never thought you’d fall in love with him, that he would fall in love with you. Wouldn’t believe that he and his brother would be regular guests in your house throughout five or six years. Hell if somebody told you that night that Merle would be welcomed past your doorstep a few months later, you’d laugh then make them take a drug test.

            There was one thing you knew the moment he laughed at your quip about bartenders being the only people who ‘have’ to be at a bar. You were leaving here with his number. A bold decision, but there was something in those penetrating baby blues that captivated you. Hell, maybe you’d even fuck him, that could be fun.

            The two of you didn’t end up having sex until almost a year later. That night is a whole story of its own, a culmination of mishaps and misunderstandings coming together to create the moment that solidified the permanency of Daryl in your life. Though there was a lack of physical entanglement, it did not make the evening you met any less exceptional.

            “So, is this a regular habit of your brother’s?” You asked after your whiskey was set on the table. “Going to bars to hit on girls barely past the legal age limit, who are so far out of his league he may as well be standing on Pluto while they are the Sun.”

            Daryl’s eyes were down on his own glass of Jack, too nervous to look at you for more than a few moments. “I mean… usually, he aims higher on the age scale and lower on the standards, but pretty much yeah.”

            “And is he always as unsuccessful as I saw before Mindy dug her claws into him?”

            “She might be the best gal I’ve seen him get in a while. Usually, he can only score middle-aged women with a smoker’s cough and sagging tits… fuck I mean..!” Daryl started to stumble over his words upon realizing what he said, attempting to make up for being so blunt. He’d later tell you that he felt like the dumbest man in the world for being so crass towards the most beautiful woman at the bar. His words, not yours.

            “Well, women like that have to start somewhere.” You snorted a laugh, holding your face in one hand, shoulder’s shaking as you tried to contain your laughter. “Oh god, don’t ever tell Mindy I said that she might do worse to me than dragging me to a bar against my will.”

            Peering between your fingers revealed Daryl to be in a similar state, his eyes watery as he held his fist to his mouth to keep back a laugh. Straightening your back and raising your glass, you couldn’t even imagine how stupid your grin must have been.

            “A toast, to being dragged to bars against our will by horny siblings and friends, and to getting to watch them strike out with ninety-nine percent of the crowd.”

            “Until they find each other and we have to try not to think about the sweet and utterly disgusting love they’re making in my pick-up right now.” He raised his own glass, a glorious smirk on his race. You still remember the high-pitched tinkle of your drinks colliding, before you simultaneously leaned back and chugged the whole thing. The whiskey burned your throat on the way down, but that’s why you love it more than the sugary cocktails, serve as a reminder that it’s not fucking fruit juice. When those glasses hit the table, both of you shuddered at the image Daryl had summoned of Mindy and Merle fucking.

            “I’m going to need a lot more to drink to burn that picture out of my mind, thank you so much for putting it there.” The whiskey was going to hit hard in a bit, but for the moment you signaled the waitress for refills.

            Don’t you miss the days where you could afford to get plastered? You should have appreciated it back then, in a few years, it’s no longer in your budget unless somebody is treating. Few years after that alcohol will be expressly forbidden unless you want a baby with fetal alcohol syndrome. At least by the time you're done with breastfeeding, you won’t have to worry about affording a glass or four, there won’t be any bartenders left to pay.

            You enjoyed the look of admiration from Daryl upon his realization you polished off your drink in one go. “You goin’ to be alright? You don’ have to overdo it jus’ to impress me.”

            “Why would I want to impress you?” You teased, resting your elbow on the table and your chin on your fist, batting your eyelashes.

            The red that blossomed in his cheeks as he immediately became flustered was such a pretty shade. “I only meant… jus’ that… don’ want you getting’ sick on me… I mean, don’ have a way to get puke out a my clothes… shit cause I mean I’ve seen people projectile vomit when they’re drunk so I’d be the closest target… jus’ that if you plan on getting that drunk, I should stay close… ONLY cause you shouldn’t be alone if yer gonna be that drunk… I mean… I mean somebody might take advantage of you if you’re alone, shit and I won’t… not that I have any way to prove that but if yer gonna be drunk enough to be taken advantage of you’ll be drunk enough to not protest from me stickin’ around to make sure you don’ get taken advantage of even though you don’ know whether or not all I’m sayin’ is I don’t fuck a chick I jus’ met especially one who’s too drunk to consent and what not but I’d hate to leave you to the whims of somebody with less pure intentions, so I’m gonna stick with you tonight so please don’ puke on me.”

            Throughout his adorable little spiel, you kept count of every time he stuttered. Somehow you managed a straight face throughout the entire thing. Daryl got flustered so easily back then, and you adored how precious his eyes looked when they were avoiding yours.

            “Daryl, honey, breathe.” The word chivalrous came to mind while you thought over his offer to watch over you. “Yer gonna hurt yerself if you don’ slow down.” You didn’t want the man to go and break himself, that would be tragic.

            You never really expected this adorable, sweet young man to become one who could heat your blood and make your panties drop with one look. That man was something he grew into from being with you. You fed him the confidence he needed to turn from a confused puppy into a ferocious wolf.

            After a few drinks, and a little chatting (he took an interest in listening to you bitch about finals and talk about your plans for med school) you made a bold proposition. “Since we’ve already determined that the only people who have to be at a bar are the tenders, how ‘bout we go for a walk?”

            Between the two of you, at least a bottle of Jack Daniels had been taken on Merle’s dime seeing as Darul had his wallet; so he had finally relaxed, a little. “Sounds fun, you could show me the sights ‘round here.” He was biting his lower lip, teasing with his voice, and you loved it.

            You stood, tossing a tip on the tray of the waitress as she passed, her glare turned to shine when she saw it was a fifty. You worked at a diner, you knew how vital tipping was, and she earned it. Plus it was out of Mindy’s purse anyways, karma should all balance out hopefully. Hopefully.

            Your first stop was Dan’s Drive-by Dive. A food truck that catered almost exclusively to the bar crowds. Back then there were only two trucks, one in south downtown, and his brother drove one on the north side of the city. Now Dan owns a fleet of trucks across the county with a bar and grill right where you and Daryl met. That bar had gone out of business two months later, and Dan decided to put a foothold to his empire.

            You treated Daryl to the greasiest burgers and cheesiest nachos in town. There wasn’t anywhere to sit, so you walked, well stumbled down the street, taking turns holding the carton of cheesy chips. Somehow the two of you ended up at Hanson’s park.

            “What the fuck is that?!” Daryl stumbled towards the fountain at the center of the grounds. The artist who designed it had been something of an oddball. To this day nobody is quite sure what the sculpture represents, but it’s a typical game to see how many vaguely penis shaped bits you can find.

            “That’s…” You pondered the answer, and no words could come to mind. “A thing.”

            “A thing?” The man snorted, then collapsed onto the edge of the basin. “Well, this thing makes a pretty good bench.”

            “That it does, that it does.” You grinned, sashaying over and taking a seat beside him. “So, Daryl.” You skimmed the surface of the water with your fingertips, watching the ripples trail behind painted nails. “Tell me about yerself.”

            He was quiet then, watching the wishing coins shimmer in the moonlight, glittering as the moving water changed the refraction. “Not much to tell…”

            “Aw, I’m sure that’s not true.” For a quick moment you glanced up at his steel blue eyes, there were distant, out of focus. “Where ya from?”

            “Nowhere,” He grunted.

            “Alright… what kind of music do you like?” You stretched to reach one of the water spouts, holding your hand cupped underneath and enjoying the coolness of the water on your skin.

            “Dunno… jus’ listen to whatever Merle puts on,” Daryl shrugged.

            “Well do you like what he plays?” You glanced up again, his eyes were now shut.

            “Naw, it’s too loud.”

            “Then why not ask him to turn it down?” This was when you turned your gaze upwards, to admire the moon.

            “Not that kind a loud.” He shifted around while trying to put his words into some kind of something. “There’s too much goin’ on, makes my head feel like it’s full a spider.”

            “Full of spiders…” You nodded, appreciating the way he put it. “I get that. There anything you do like to listen to? Don’t have to be music, what’s… what’s yer favorite sound?”

            No hesitation. “Yer, voice.”


End file.
